A Little Fall Of Rain
by Bizarbra
Summary: Sophia Lockaby is a good witch, so why does Snape make her life hell?


Sophia Lockaby stood tall in front of the dark, mahogany desk. Hot, salty tears streamed down her crimson cheeks, soaking her emerald green robe. She tried to suppress her sobbing, but it welled up in her chest, bursting, trying to explode out, but she had controlled it so far and wasn't going to let him win, not now. Prof. Snape glared at her from his steepled hands. He sat tall at his desk; Sophia noticed the hatred he had in his eyes as they locked eye contact. She couldn't keep his gaze and tried to concentrate on something else. His hair was unusually grease free she noticed and he looked a lot less pale she thought. A series of reasons popped up into her head to think of reasons why. This helped block out the words he spat at her, but still they penetrated her thoughts.  
  
"...You are nothing but a pathetic excuse for a witch....Oh Please! Stop crying! You are fooling no one with your fake tears and will soon be out of Hogwarts if I have anything to do with it. How would that make you parents feel? A failed witch in the family? Do you want that?...Miss Lockaby.....Miss Lockaby..."  
  
She looked at him through a trance, she knew she should answer and knew what he wanted to hear but it wouldn't come. She stood dumb on the spot. Why did he have this effect? she thought, why can't I answer? She knew it was part fear and part confusion. She just couldn't understand what it was.  
  
"Deaf and Dumb are we?? You are not helping yourself at all you know?.....still no answer very well, you can stand her in my office till you feel you can grace me with a few words of shame" Snape drawled, a slight sneer escaping from the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes narrowed and his glare became more piercing. Still Sophia stood dumb.  
  
Sophia was in her 6th year at Hogwarts. She was a average girl to look at, she was tall with long, curly brown hair. Her deep chocolate brown almond eyes always had a strong look of eagerness. But Sophia was anything but average in personality. She was smart, funny, warm, gentle, graceful, always willing to help and an extremely good witch. She was used to standing in front of Snape's desk, she nearly did it after every potions lesson. She could sense the disgust he had for her, and she had it for him return. He always seemed to want to pick on her. (Admittedly) he picked on every pupil, but he had a reserved manner towards her. Today she thought was a dreadful day. She hadn't even done anything wrong, not that she ever did. His reason for detention was her parchment was blotted with ink. Sophia knew better than to answer him back when he confronted her and let his words rush over her, only acknowledging the word detention.  
  
Sophia couldn't remember how long she stood there, but she began to feel the pangs of hunger jolt in her stomach. She shot a look at Snape who was staring at her, she looked deep in his eyes and saw something strange, his eyes weren't hateful, no they showed another emotion. She stared hard her eyes widening then he broke her gaze. Not before she realised what she saw, it was Pity, he pitied her? What was that? She felt her head swim, her vision blurred and she fell crumpled on the floor.  
  
She woke with a dull thud, pounding in her head. Her body felt warm, yet her face felt a bitter cold. She heard the crackling of a fire nearby, but felt the effort to open her eyes was too much. She heard footsteps pacing the floor, they were quick, the footsteps of someone impatient. She could tell she was still in the dungeon from the cold, empty echo. She used all her other senses to try and understand what was going on. She moved her hand and felt a heavy, woolen cloak draped across her. She reached up and found her robe slightly unbuttoned. What had happened? She relayed the events in her head. Just as she remembered she realised the footsteps had stopped. She heard the trickle of water and then jumped as a cold cloth wiped her forehead. Her eyes snapped open; she looked up into the face of Snape. It was just as she remembered it, stern and cold. His cheeks were slightly flushed from pacing but he showed now emotion. He glanced and saw see was awake. Without a word he put the cloth down and left the room. Sophia didn't have time to collect her thoughts as he quickly barged threw the door with a smoking goblet. He stood over her and ordered her to sit up. She could tell it wasn't a request by the power he used in his tone. She dragged herself up on the make shift bed and took the goblet. The vinegar smell stung her nostrils and scorched her throat. She looked at Snape's face hoping he wouldn't make her drink it.  
  
"Make sure you finish the whole Goblet" he said. There was no pity in his voice. But as Sophia brought the goblet to her lips, she didn't realise, there was no emotion in his words. As she brought the goblet to her lips, she felt her stomach wretch. Snape kneeled down at took the goblet. Sophia coughed madly, but the sick feeling subsided. As she calmed down, Snape pushed the goblet to her mouth and forced it down. Sophia went dizzy and layback down, had he poisoned her? Was he finally going to get rid of her? That's where the pity came from, his conscience kicked in. She tried to get up and run away, but her body wasn't under her control. She could feel her arms, but didn't have the power to move them. She lay helpless as Snape pulled his robe round him closer.  
  
Sophia tried to talk but again her mouth wouldn't open, it felt like a bad dream, the words just wouldn't come. What had he done? Was it a dream? Her vision became blurry, the ceiling turned hazy and she sank into a dreamless slumber.  
  
Snape saw this, and stared at the sleeping figure. He sighed, then left. 


End file.
